Genshin Impact + Blowjobs

genshin impact + blowjobs

ft. Childe, Thoma, Zhongli, Itto, Kaeya, & Diluc

cw: fem!plus sized reader, overstimulation, subby men, blowjobs, dirty talk/slight degradation, established relationship

Childe: His fingers itch to grasp your head and fuck your mouth but he remains as still as he can, allowing his hands to stay clenched at his sides. That doesn’t mean he’s without reactions, oh no. He’s moaning your name to the high heavens, head thrown back against the array of pillows cushioning the two you. His thighs raise to nearly lock around your head, inhaling sharply the moment your tongue laps at his balls sucking them into your mouth. He’s cumming hard, humping his hips up into the open air cum spraying across his lower abdomen. He’s whimpering, cock resting heavily at his thigh as he meekly paws you away from his swollen balls, blinking his pretty cerulean eyes at you.

“You really know how to take it out of me, huh? Fuck, I’m so drained.” Childe runs his fingers down his length moaning as his cockhead drools precum. He runs his thumb over your swollen lip, smiling at you. He pulls you down on top of him, breathing heavily and hard cock swelling at the heat of your cunt pressing against him. “How about I return the favor, babe?”

Thoma: He can barely think the moment those pretty lips wrap around the head of his dripping cock, mouth immediately drawn open and his hips jolt. He’s blinking rapidly, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The heat of the room seeps into his bones and it’s taking everything in him not to push you down and fuck your throat– he would never want to hurt you in any way, no matter how wet and warm and good your mouth feels.

“Fuck, fuuuuuck, baby. You’re taking my cock so well. Such a good girl for me. Ahh~, slow down, baby! Don’t wanna cum too fast, pl-please!” Borderline reduced to a whimpering and whining mess as he writhes beneath your ministrations, cock heavy on your tongue. Thoma breathes heavily through his nose, swallowing thickly when you increase speed. One glance up at him through those pretty lashes and he’s cumming down your throat with a desperate chant. “Good girl, good girl, good girl!” His back is arching and he’s crying out your name, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes.

Zhongli: His eyes roll back, hand coming to rest on the back of your head softly whispering words of encouragement as he slides inch after inch of his cock down your throat. He mostly lets you set your own pace, letting you suck him in whichever way you wanted adamant that it all felt good to him. 

“Feels so good, princess. You know just how to make me cum.” Zhongli feels filthy for saying such things but he cannot deny the satisfaction of your eyes lighting up at the praise and setting forth to suck his cock harder than before. If he feels he’s approaching his release too quickly he may stop you in order to prolong his orgasm.

Itto: This man moans like a slut and he knows it. Completely unabashed and vocal, singing your praises the moment you take his cock down the back of your throat. He’s wearing a dumb, lusty grin on his face with half-lidded eyes mouth stuttering into an ‘O’ shape whenever you hit a particularily good spot before he’s back to a lazy smirk. His hand rests in your hair, not applying any sort of pressure and the left one is folded behind his head. He’s also quite vulgar sometimes.

“You like having suck a big, fuckin’ cock down your throat, don’t you, baby? Such a good girl, suckin’ me off so well.” Itto moans, shivering with the way your hands travel up his muscular thighs. “Feels so fuckin’ good, I’m gonna cum–gonna cum–shiiiit!” 

Kaeya: Definitely keeps the back of your neck cradled by his hand as he rolls his hips against your mouth. He makes sure you tap his thigh or pull back if it seems like he’s overloading you. Sure, he wants this but he doesn’t want to hurt you in the process. 

“Surely, you can take a little more, right princess? Stick that pretty little tongue out and open wide–there, see how well I’m sliding down your throat? You look so pretty with my cock stretching out your little mouth– I can only imagine how well you’ll look with your beautiful pussy being split open on my dick.”

Diluc: A rumbling grunt falls from his lips, hands fisting the sheets as you slacken your jaw to accept more of his massive length into your mouth. His face is flushed, heart pounding in his chest a mile a minute and he’s already starting to feel the familiar coil winding up slowly in his abdomen 

“Gah.. Hey, slow down. Don’t try to force me down–fuck, you’re mouth is so tight… and wet. Yeah. Feels really good. Take it easy, you don’t have to take me all at once.” He hisses through his teeth, hating how easily you can get him worked over with just a few quick strokes of your tongue.

a flower for your thoughts? | kaedehara kazuha

secretary!kazuha whose careful footsteps you never hear against the floor when he comes to wake you in the morning, your look of complete surprise never failing in inviting a low chuckle from his lips followed by a curt "good morning".

secretary!kazuha who knows not to mention anything about your schedule before 9:00 am in the morning because the only coherent communication you can form are the occasional "hmm" of approval or glare in disapproval.

secretary!kazuha who watches you with laughter in his eyes as you barely manage to make your way from your bedroom to the loveseat [aka your reserved seat] in the sunroom before once more settling down to sleep.

secretary!kazuha who always makes sure you've got a small throw blanket covering you while you sleep, carefully tucking it into your slumbering figure before moving to the kitchen to cook something for you to eat when you wake up.

secretary!kazuha who doesn't need to wake you up for breakfast because the smell lulls you gently awake and coaxes you into the kitchen to settle at the kitchen island across from where you watch him work at the stove.

secretary!kazuha who always leaves a small flower garnishing the edge of the dish and a napkin with the neatly scribbled lines of whatever beautiful piece of literature he had been reading earlier that morning.

secretary!kazuha who's developed a knack for slipping your misplaced items back into your bag silently, his movements fluid and disguised if your attention isn't diverted elsewhere [he refuses to give you the chance to lose something].

secretary!kazuha who wears a heart-melting smile whilst politely telling nosy reporters or annoying investors to 'screw off' because not only have they made you feel uncomfortable, but they've upset you [and it will be a cold day in hell when he lets that slide].

secretary!kazuha who always has a small piece of candy or chocolate tucked in the inner pockets of his suit [and you know this], fingers daft and nimble when they slip the small bit of sweetness into your hands if you're in a long meeting or to carry you over until your actual meal arrives.

secretary!kazuha who's mastered the ability to hide his distress from you except the one time he failed the day you had been asked out on your first date and how the same day he came back to find you crying on the steps of the restaurant because they never showed.

secretary!kazuha who will carry you bridal style back to the car and let you soak the shoulder of his [probably armani] suit jacket with your tears because it's just a jacket and he knows he's got the budget to get hundreds more but none to allow you to be as upset as you are.

secretary!kazuha who will have the rest of his team do a security sweep of the perimeter of whatever quiet restaurant you had pointed at to go before entering and renting out the entire space for the remainder of the night [people were the last thing you needed].

secretary!kazuha who will personally ensure that all your meals are cooked to your preference before letting them come anywhere near your table and don't think he doesn't catch the glint in your eyes at his efforts to cheer your up.

secretary!kazuha who allows himself to shamelessly admire you in this light because it is in these rare moments watching you smile and laugh, that he can forget the fact that he's supposed to ignore the warmth in his heart when he's around you.

secretary!kazuha who will let the love reach his eyes when you ask what he's staring at and his lips curve to tell you you're beautiful.

© tb3ih mmxxii all rights reserved.

drowning in you.

it is love that cannot be conveyed in words, a depth of longing immeasurable and indescribable; it pours from his gaze, honey-saccharine and achingly tender, a desire not fueled by lust but by devotion. it's delightfully sweet, as dreamy as spun sugar, and it is love you want to drink in for all of eternity, as long as the gods permit it.

(or, the ardent love that can be felt even in the simplest of things.)

XIAO: it shows in the way he's accommodating, in the way he insists he won't stoop so low to acquiesce with your whims but he does anyway. he complains when you text him in ungodly hours of the morning about your burger cravings, but accompanies you to a fast food joint at 3 a.m. without much argument. (or any, for that matter. in fact, he came along uninvited, saying “my conscience won't let me sleep for the rest of the night if i actually allow you to go alone this late” when he could've just, you know, say he's worried like a normal person.) he ignores your exaggerated whining when you tell him you miss him after two days of not seeing him, but makes an effort to seek you out the following day. he doesn't speak much when you tell him about a bad week full of worries and things going wrong, but he threads his fingers through your hair and strokes comforting circles on your back. (he does not tell you so, but it is easy to see how much he adores you.)

CHILDE: it shows in the way he's so sticky, an annoying little thing you can never get rid of. even if the distance between you stretches for miles, the phone calls and cute messages don't make it seem like it at all, like he's been there all this time. and when he physically is, his stickiness gets worse, fingers resting on your hip or chin propped on your shoulder. he is the most clingy darling to exist, but you can't find it in you to complain about it; you love it when he chases your mouth, lips brushing sweetly, bruising until you're kiss-bitten and clearly well-loved. it is easy to lose yourself in his embrace, worries melting away in the comfort of his arms, and easier so when he reassures you everything will be okay.

ALBEDO: it shows in the way he takes care of you, in ways that might not be noticeable at first glance. in the blurry haze upon just waking up, it is difficult to remember what you've been doing before falling asleep but you have enough sentience to recognize him sitting by the edge of the mattress, a novel between his hands. “hi,” you speak, and it takes him a short moment to press a bookmark amidst the pages and place it back down on the table in favor of giving you his undivided attention. “hello,” he greets back, pecking your nose. you smile when the tips of his hair brush along your cheek. “i ordered dinner. stay here while i reheat it, hm?” and off he goes to the kitchen. only when you sit up and spot another book by your bedside table do you remember you've been reading in the afternoon at the living room and dozed off unknowingly. it's not too hard to guess he must've carried you from the sofa to a proper bed, tucked a bookmark in the last page you left off, and remained by your side thereafter.

ZHONGLI: it shows in the way he's so considerate, in the way he's unfazed even when you show up on his doorstep drenched from the turbulent storm. a sheepish grin pulls at your lips as his eyes scan your figure, clothes clinging wetly to your skin due to the rain, and he tugs you inside his quarters, comparatively warmer than outside. he doesn't mind even if you soak his carpet, only throwing a towel around your body and ushering you to the bath, preparing hot chocolate while you're in the shower. later when you're already sipping on the soothing beverage, clothed in his oversized shirt and sweatpants and bundled in soft blankets, he blow-dries your hair and reminds you sternly to stop forgetting your umbrella at home. still, it barely qualifies as a scolding; he indulges you with cuddles as you spend the rainy day together.

KAZUHA: it shows in the way he's attentive, the way he recognizes your wants and needs. it is not an epic romance; he has not slain dragons for you, given his life to protect you, but he sacrifices his comfort when he notices you shivering in the cold, wrapping his scarf around your neck. he gives you spoonfuls of his meal when he catches you eyeing it, provides you cold soda when you mindlessly complain about the summer heat. he books tickets for a movie he knows you'll like, orders the dessert you're craving for before returning home. he gives you space when you need it, and gives you affection when you ask for it. if it is within his capabilities, he will do as you request, as long as you wish for it.

THOMA: it shows in the way he's affectionate, loving you even if he does not make it known. dead tired from a job, inky darkness blanketing the sky and your consciousness deep in slumber, he divests himself of stiff clothes and exchanges it for pajamas before slipping on the spot beside you, arms curled around your waist. you lean to his touch, groggy murmurs that he deciphers as “welcome home” answered with “i'm back,” peppering soft kisses on your face as his lashes flutter shut. his hands wander occasionally, pressing beneath your shirt; not so much for seeking pleasure, but for what the act is worth, a reassuring heat that lulls you back to sleep. any more words can wait for tomorrow — it is a sure thing to wake up beside you, anyway, and in the everchanging present, it is one of the constants in his life he treasures the most.

amusing beginnings.

premise: the dramatic prelude of a tale spun by the workings of fate, weaved with strings of scarlet linking futures untold. this is a story of innocence, of unforeseen encounters offering no clue of a romance that will blossom much, much later — this is how you begin together, yet there is no telling if there will ever be a proper conclusion for the prose you call love.

or, plainly speaking, a series of meet-cute scenarios i am far too lazy dedicating individual fics for. i just wanted to sound smart about it.

includes: xiao & itto !

xiao, a friend from an mmo game

moving to a different town and entering a new school in the middle of the year... are inconvenient. friend groups within the class had already been established, and badgering your seatmate to put up with your presence during lunch break or free time outside of lessons when you just don't click together as friends doesn't sound very appealing.

it doesn't help that you aren't extroverted, bumbling and awkward as you try to interact with others more. but if you don't want to feel like a loser for the entire year, you'd have to exert some effort to make friends.

so when you hear about a multiplayer game everyone's been raving about, you thought that was your chance to fit in — after all, if you had common interests with your classmates, couldn't you invite them to play together or something?

thus, you download the game, lament the astronomical numbers of space it took up in your storage, and experiment with the controls until you get more familiar with them.

except some high-leveled assholes who have nothing better to do keep killing your poor level 1 in-game character, armed with a dull sword, starter equipment, and flimsy armor that had no way to defend against level 41 fire blasts, and wait until you respawn to do it all over again. with this hindering your progress, you couldn't complete the main quest in order to advance to the next area.

they taunt you in the world chat, too obnoxiously prideful for someone miserable enough to pick on amateurs, and that's when he appears:

geared in what looks like expensive armor, equipped with rare weapons retrieved from the highest difficulty of dungeons, his name written in bright front and his level, 174, just above it. alatus, his ID reads.

it takes him no more than one move to wipe them all out.

what are you doing? he types in the world chat. hurry up and go before they respawn.

thank you so much!!!!! you reply with a flurry of exclamation points and emotes, shocked that you'd run into someone so high leveled right off the bat. the other players in the server watching the spectacle seem to think he's intimidating and steered clear of him, making a wide circle around you.

though he told you to hurry up, he lingers by your side, almost like he's guarding you. he escorts you all the way until you finish the main quest, not speaking a word and only silently killing surrounding enemies too high for your level.

you wonder if it would be too cheeky of you to send a friend request; he's one of the best in the server, boasting all kinds of achievements and artifacts in his player profile. why would he be interested in befriending a newbie like you?

you're terrible at this, he sends in the chat. this is the first i've seen anyone flubbing basic attacks. don't just press any button you see.

you cringe. his words are harsh but truthful. you kept pressing the wrong buttons to dodge and always receive the brunt of the attacks.

however, you pause when a notification flashes on your screen: player alatus has sent you a friend request! accept or decline?

jolting, you scramble to click accept, lest he take it back last minute. can he even do that? whatever. following that is a present from a friend sent to your mailbox, a pair of level 50 dual blades and defensive armor. they pale in comparison to his current gear, but they're plenty powerful for normal players, especially for an amateur who barely just reached level 7 after grinding some missions (and with help).

old equipment. needed to clear out my inventory, he adds, as if he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea.

you've lost track for the amount of times you've thanked him in the past hour or so, and you try to send more exclamation points and different emotes so you wouldn't appear like a broken record. though i appreciate everything, can i ask you why you're helping a new player like me? you ask tentatively, eager to hear his answer.

there isn't much else you can do at this level. that's all there is to it. and you were pitiful.

...kind of pretentious, but okay...

can i play with you again some other time? you type before the thought of wanting to do so even registers in your mind. not just so you can help me. it's been really fun spending time with you!!!

three minutes of silence pass. your confidence to reach out and make friends shriveled up and died.

sure.

then, later, i usually play at evening or at midnight. our schedules might not line up.

there's no problem! i stay up most nights, too!

then i'll see you some other time. i'm logging off.

relief crashes over you, only dwindling when alatus has gone offline. he was fine with being friends... and promised to play together again in the future... well, maybe not promise, but something like it, and that's enough.

--

the months fly by, and opposed to your prior concerns, you fit in class just fine. playing the mmo game to have a common interest with your classmates was the right move, and it had opened ways for you to connect with others more through other similar hobbies.

but even after you achieved your goal, you didn't drop the game. you're not the most avid player, but you grind dungeons a normal amount, clearing time-limited events if you find them entertaining enough.

it's mostly just to spend time with alatus, though.

alatus, or xiao as you later learned after you exchanged your real names, is quite the charmer. not that you've ever seen his face; he is just... cute, in general. he appears gruff and intimidating, but really, he's an awkward guy who can't act soft because it's “undignified.”

you think he is sweet and kind, though you'll never say it to his face since it'll only make him feel embarrassed. not only does he come to save you each time you tell him you're having a hard time defeating a boss in your private chat, and he gives away precious weaponry and potions to you exclusively as if any other player wouldn't willingly hand over all their gold just to get a piece of it, he makes a great listener.

you have a bad habit of rambling and getting immersed in your thoughts at late hours of the night. you speak of your insecurities, your weaknesses, your fears, and he listens even if he doesn't type a reply all throughout your flood of messages. he keeps his response concise, but they're thoughtful advice, ones that you take into heart. he's a comforting figure, regardless of being a stranger behind a screen.

sometimes, you like to think you're sorta the same for him. xiao isn't as straightforward as you when he wants company, but he asks if you can stay online longer than usual, just to talk or to do the more relaxing tasks in the game. he trusts you to an extent, enough to offer exchanging real names at least.

enough to ask you to marry him.

your in-game character, of course! what else could that possibly mean?! okay, so you may have nearly fallen out of your chair in shock when he sent you a marriage proposal through chat of all things, but that's all it means! nothing more!

there was a couples-exclusive event dungeon, and the loot was desirable. some beautiful skins for pure cosmetic, and also a power-enhancing ring that you couldn't find anywhere else. xiao, the game nerd that he is, couldn't pass it up.

so yeah. technically, you can say you married him.

it was a hot topic at some point. alatus was one of the best players in the server, notorious for his aversion to cooperating with others, and he hadn't married anyone despite all the rewards you could reap with the marriage function.

then there's you, level 47, not especially skilled in anything, not especially appealing in your character's outward appearance, and not especially... notable. the very meaning of an average player, so to speak. he specifically chose you, but nobody could understand why.

well. whatever. the marriage is old news already. the present hottest news is the huge gaming convention to come in two weeks. fans are hyping it up and you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited too. in fact, your friends already made plans with you to come on a weekend.

when you talk to xiao about it, there's a rare moment of hesitance before he types out a reply, almost like the times where he gets nervous before asking you a favor.

are you going too? you ask, grinning to yourself.

yeah, he answers back. a minute and a half of silence.

then, startlingly, do you want to meet up?

you've always doubted the feasibility of choking on air before, but after experiencing it firsthand, you learn that anything really is possible. including meeting the elusive guy you've had a massive crush on, no matter how unlikely it seemed.

--

you are severely late.

but! for good reason! you'd hate to look like a hobo, so you made sure to dress nicely! ...maybe too nicely for a gaming convention where everyone will be sweaty and icky, but better prepared than sorry!

somehow, i'm not even surprised, reads xiao's text — yes! you exchanged numbers! — and you can picture him scoffing at the other end. don't rush and trip in the middle of running. i'm not going anywhere.

you ignore the way your heart skips a beat at that and focus on getting there safely. he said to do just that, after all. but while waiting at the crosswalk, you wonder what xiao really looks like... would he be tall and scary? or unexpectedly soft and cute?

in all honesty, you should've sent pictures of yourselves to identify each other easier at the venue, but against your better judgment, you suggested only describing your attire and keeping your appearances a secret because the mystery is “fun” and it'd be nicer to see each other for the first time face to face. (you've only been trying to prolong your inevitable death, because whatever he looks like, you're bound to fall deeper anyway.)

i'm here, you text to him, beginning to anxiously look around your surroundings. he said to meet up at the entrance, and there are more people than you expected...

i'll find you. stay by the first advertisement banner at the front.

alright!

you bite your lip, clammy hands holding your phone tightly. you're a lot more nervous than you thought you would be. did you look okay? you've asked your friends over and over again if you looked presentable, enough times to annoy them, probably. you styled your hair differently too... you wonder if it looks weird. xiao said he would be wearing a green jacket and dark pants, and he had piercings in his ear, and then you can't remember what else because oh my god, what does xiao look like with piercings in his ear.

you snap out of your thoughts when a path opens up in front of you. first, there are disgruntled noises from people being pushed away, then they disappear like wisps of smoke the second after. quiet gasps of surprise come from the group of girls nearby, and if you had to guess, it would likely be a good-looking cosplayer passing by.

the figure stops in front of you, sneakers in your line of sight where you stare blankly at the floor. slowly, your eyes rake up — dark fitting jeans, a trail of silver chains disappearing under the hem of a green jacket, a white shirt printed with dragons...

you're reluctant to glance anywhere higher above the line of his neck.

“[name]?”

fuck.

it's him.

you take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. then you look up, properly.

you see golden eyes, specks of stars glittering in his irises.

his skin is pale, pink from the warm sun. his lips are pink too, a traitorous part of your mind marvels, slightly parted in surprise and shaped around an o. his hair is dark, tied up into a messy ponytail, sharp tips dyed in teal poking his cheek, framing the sides of his face.

oh no. he's hot.

he is so hot.

and he's staring at you.

“x... xiao?” your voice comes out strangled. embarrassingly. oh god. you are so fucked.

his face grows redder, and he scratches his cheek. “...that's me.”

silence.

you have to say something.

“do you... want to go outside?” he coughs into a fist. “the event has already started.”

“uh, yeah! sure! of course!” you ramble, walking past him in the hopes you wouldn't make a bigger fool of yourself. your face looks weird, surely. “i can't wait to see the cosplayers! they're also announcing a new chapter for the main story today, aren't th-”

“wait.”

he catches your wrist. you stop breathing, at risk of choking on air again.

“it's crowded.” his hand curls tighter. oh no. “don't get lost.”

“i won't, what are you talking about?” you laugh awkwardly. seeing him, hearing him, touching him, is such a strange thing.

“i wouldn't be surprised if you did.” his fingers dip lower, fitting in the spaces within yours. properly holding your hand. oh. oh. “so don't wander off without me.”

“yeah.” you're positively breathless. “yeah. i won't.”

he squeezes your hand. you're not looking at him directly, but you see him tilting his head at the corner of your eye. “...no complaints about this?”

“none at all.”

“okay.” he squeezes again. carefully, tenderly. his palms are sweaty. at least that tells you you're not the only one nervous. “if you say so.”

itto, a delinquent in the downpour

arataki itto is an idiot.

an idiot who keeps picking fights with people he can't beat, and kujou sara tells him off for it. an idiot who grabs the last piece of fried chicken on the table, agrees to thoma's proposal for a battle of rock-paper-scissors to get it, only for itto to lose each time. an idiot who bets on his entire deck of trading cards in his beetle fights, never truly realizing the risk until he'd already lost everything to kamisato ayato.

but arataki itto doesn't regret.

he doesn't regret trying to beat kujou sara even if it's his loss in the end, because she doesn't look down on him for losing and his friends are always there to patch him up. he doesn't regret doing rock-paper-scissors with thoma, because thoma would end up sharing the piece of chicken anyway. he doesn't regret betting on his deck, because ayato is never greedy, and he will always, always give it back to itto and tell him to try better next time.

arataki itto doesn't regret it this time either, even if he doesn't gain anything. even when he's battered and bruised, drenched in the rain, slumped against a wall in the middle of a dark alley. even when the boy he just saved from money-grubbing hooligans didn't spare him another look nor gave him any word of thanks, left him to fend for himself when the men's hostility had already been directed at him. never called for help, either, just allowed him to be outnumbered in a fight, and as strong itto is, there's no way he can beat five bulky guys on his own.

he doesn't regret, but it stings a little.

his entire body prickles with hurt, but at the same time he's unfeeling, numb in the cold rain. his line of sight is getting blurry, too, blobs of color instead of people darting past, streetlights small bright spots like fireflies.

he tries to open his mouth to ask for help, but that stings too. a busted lip, maybe. his voice is feeble, silent in his own ears. it can't be heard over the pouring rain. he tries to sit up straighter, but the effort to nudge his shoulder back exhausts all his energy. he wants to reach out a hand at least, but before he can even try, his body won't listen to him. his eyes close against his wishes.

he knows for sure he isn't too deep in the alley. can't anybody see him? or are they deliberately ignoring him because they don't want trouble? there's nothing wrong with that, really. not everyone has the time to help, or the bravery to approach a big guy covered in wounds. he understands. but he still hopes anyway.

ah, it's cold. the brick wall behind him is rough. his clothes are uncomfortable, sticking to his skin like this.

he forces his eyes open. there, he sees a pair of shoes, forming ripples across puddles when they step closer.

they halt.

they turn the opposite direction.

they leave him alone.

(he doesn't notice the umbrella they leave behind.)

--

he wakes up to someone patting his cheek. someone is speaking, but everything is muddled. it's still cold, and his back is still resting against the brick wall. but there's no rain anymore, only the pitter-patter sound when it hit the pavement.

he wonders how long he'd been shielded away from it.

“...llo... can... stand...”

stand. do they want him to stand? he's afraid that's too much to ask for.

the rain covers him again, icy drops falling on his skin. warmth overlaps with the frost, grabbing his arm, curling it around... something. he's being lifted up. not very effectively, but they're trying.

so he tries his best too. shifting his weight, blinking his eyes open, staying awake. they take him somewhere. it's dry, and when they push him over, it's to a plush seat. they don't complain when he leans his head on their shoulder, possibly soaking their clothes with his wet hair. he has to apologize, but sleep overtakes him.

itto doesn't remember much after that. just a hand on his forehead for some time, parts of his body wiped and wrapped in gauze. a blanket tucked carefully around him, fingertips brushing by his shoulders before they leave.

--

when he fully comes to, the first thing that registers to his mind is a room full of white. white sheets, white ceilings, white curtains. then a head of blue hair, standing by the window.

“oh, you're awake!” ayato exclaims, beyond relieved. “i was surprised when i picked up your call and it was someone else speaking. good thing they rushed you to the hospital, huh?”

“someone took me here?” itto asks, sitting up. “where are they?”

“they took off after i arrived. said they were late to an interview because they had to stay here... ah. that must've meant they probably didn't get the job...” he murmurs, grimacing. “i should've asked for their number so we can thank them properly. no point trying to find them now, though.”

but itto saw them. not very clearly, but he remembers kind eyes glazed in worry, a shirt partly soaked through, and a silver star hanging from their necklace.

arataki itto was never especially smart, but if anything, he is stubborn, and if he put his mind to it, he can do anything.

--

“isn't there any part-time job out there that doesn't pay minimum wage?”

“what? you saving up for something?”

“summer vacation is coming, you know! vacation trips aren't going to pay for themselves,” you sigh, burying your face in your folded arms.

“it's not like you have a boyfriend to spend it with.”

“can't i go on a vacation with friends?”

“and who are these friends you speak of? everyone is dating somebody. they're probably too busy,” she retorts, looking envious. “even xiao has someone when all he does is play games everyday.”

you scrunch your nose. “damn those happy idiots...”

“that aside, i thought you found a good part-time job? you didn't get it?”

hearing that, you turn even gloomier. “i didn't tell you? i blew it. i came late on the interview, and that didn't make a very good first impression. plus i looked horrible from the rain.”

“hm. find a rich boyfriend, then.”

“like who...?”

“kamisato ayato from the other department?” your friend suggests, grinning. “he's good looking. his sister is pretty too, i saw them walking together once.”

you snort. “way out of my league. i'm better off not hoping.”

“don't be like that~ i heard he was going to attend the next mixer. thoma told me himself-”

the door to the lecture hall opens, interrupting your conversation. “is [name] here?” a voice queried, rough and a tad bit too loud.

“right he-”

your friend slaps a hand over your mouth frantically, turning you away from the door. “what are you doing?!”

“what?” you blink up at her, whispering, “he's asking for me, isn't he?”

“didn't you see who it was?” she hisses, shielding you from view. “arataki itto! the one who beat up a senior on his first day as a freshman, remember?!”

arataki itto?

doesn't ring a bell.

“come on, that's just a ridiculous rumor, isn't it?” you wave her off, laughing. “wasn't kazuha rumored to have a criminal record at some point? you should know better than to believe them. so don't worry and let go of me, i'm sure he's not-”

your eyes flit to his sharp eyes, gleaming with intent, and his muscular build that could probably crush your skull with a single hand.

“...going to kill me...” your voice trails of too a whisper, face paling in horror. “on second thought, please be my meat shield?”

“[n-name] is over there!” a terrified classmate points in your direction the moment itto turns to glance at him inquisitively. a snitch! a tattletale! you're never lending him your notes ever again. given that you live another day, that is.

“oh. thanks.”

how polite! thanking him for his contribution in your likely murder!

“wait wait wait, what does he want with me?!” you shrink further behind your friend, but there is no escape. he can see you peeking over her shoulder.

“shouldn't you know that?! did you piss him off or something?!”

“i don't know! i've never seen him before!” you cried. you really haven't! you swear you have nothing to do with him! you don't deal with people who look like trouble! sure you might have dragged a delinquent to the hospital a few weeks before, but he was unconscious and defenseless! he could barely stand! this guy can punt you off to mars!

“you're [name], right?” his eyes sparkle with recognition, just an arm's width away from you now. your friend, traitor that she is, silently moves away.

an involuntary squeak is punched out of your lungs. “y... yes, that's me,” you respond meekly, attempting a wobbly smile. “did you need me for something?”

itto clears his throat, expression similar to that of a constipated man's. “well... that is... i was... how do i say this...”

the deafening silence stretches for what seems like hours. the back of your neck prickles at the attention, everyone's eyes focused solely on the pair of you. you can't read him at all. what kind of offense did you do that he had to come to you like this?

“ah, dang it, 'm not good at things like this...” he grumbles, scratching his head.

eh? what is he not good at? public execution? no, no, he wouldn't go that far right?

“so, what i'm trying to say is-!”

he flails about, thrusting out the hands he'd been hiding behind his back. a bouquet of pink roses, delicate and small, is curled within his grasp. your eyes widen, taken aback, turning even wider when you see the way his cheeks redden, entire face aflame, fingers trembling nervously. his face, pinched tight with restless energy, is nothing but earnest and sincere.

“i admire you a lot! i...” he takes an intake of breath. “i would like to court you!”

and, ever so eloquently, you respond with, “wuh?”

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫!𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫!(𝐲/𝐧)

A/N : AAAAAAAA STREAMER!AYATO HAS BEEN A HUGE BRAINROT FOR ME AND IT SHOWS IN MY 3.4K HCS; MY LONGEST ONE YET 😭 actually will just sob over him in my eu alt bc i have him there and hHHHHHH HES SO <333333

masterlist

omg ayato as a streamer??

ayato as a streamer _(:з)∠)_

…

PogU—

alright. so.

we all know ayato is a true gentleman, right?

right.

so obviously that means his community’s first impressions of him were good ones !! they all thought of him to be this gentle, kind man who enjoys chatting about anything and everything with an angelic smile and a melodious laugh

i mean, they’re not wrong, per se, but they only touched the surface that is Kamiyato

Kamiyato is live! Would you like some tea?

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⋆ Tale of the Five Kasen ⋆